


Walking In The Wind

by PigSlay



Category: Glee
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I put Brittana as the 'relationship' but it is not the central focus of the fic, Other, Suicide, but the comfort is kind of just stuck on the end, so don't read this expecting that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 13:39:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6568480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PigSlay/pseuds/PigSlay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana visits Finn's grave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking In The Wind

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Glee or the song "Walking In The Wind" by One Direction. This fic assumes that Finn's death was via suicide. Since they never really say on the show what his death was caused by, I don't claim that as the truth.
> 
> I wrote this as a coping mechanism. I'm not sure how but something sparked up memories of my friend Ramsey, who committed several years ago. One of the last things I remember about her is that she loved Glee, so I wanted to write a Glee fic to feel connected to her I guess.

Santana isn’t sure how she ended up here, or why she felt the need to come. After all the years that have passed, one would think she would have moved on. Everyone else seems to, and they were much closer to him than she ever was.

For some reason though, she can’t let go of the fact that he’s gone. Even when she hasn’t thought about him for a while, something random will happen to make him pop into her head again.

She sits down in front of his tombstone, and for a moment she just stares at it, not sure what to do. Before she knows it, words are pouring out of her mouth.

“Hi Finn,” she starts. “Today I saw a random football game on the TV. For some reason Brittany was very into it. I didn’t really pay attention to what was going on, but it made me think of you and the years of me cheering at your dumb games.”

She bites her lip, trying to stop herself from crying, but to no avail. Soon she falls to the ground, sobbing and shaking so hard it feels like she’s in a freezer.

“I just don’t understand. Why did you have to die? And why do I even still care? Would I even still be friends with you now, if you can even call us ‘friends’ in the first place?”

Her trembling hands reach up to wipe her eyes. “And I know we were both kind of s***heads to each other, but I miss you. I miss teasing you and Berry for making out every second of the day, I miss your weirdness and your unfunny jokes. I just miss _you_ in general, and I’d give anything to turn back the clock and do what I could to stop you from taking that knife to your throat…”

Santana gulps as she remembers finding out that news from another one of her friends, how she had felt – and still feels – imagining him doing that to himself. She takes deep breaths, trying not to break before she does what she came here to do.

“Brit played this song for me recently,” she starts, taking papers out of the bag she brought with her. “And I thought I’d sing it to you, so that it’s almost like old times again. Almost.”

She clears her throat and looks down at the papers, even though she can’t actually read them with how dark it is outside. She has all the lyrics memorized by this point anyway.

_The fact that we can sit right here and say goodbye, means we've already won. The necessity for apologies between you and me, baby, there is none._

_We had some good times, didn't we? We had some good tricks up our sleeve. Goodbyes are bittersweet, but it's not the end. I'll see your face again._

_[…] Yesterday I went out to celebrate the birthday of a friend, but as we raised our glasses up to make a toast, I realized you were missing._

_We had some good times, didn't we? We wore our hearts out on our sleeve. Goodbyes are bittersweet, but it's not the end. I'll see your face again._

_And you will find me. Yeah you will find me, in places that we've never been. For reasons we don't understand. Walking in the wind, walking in the wind._

Santana chokes and isn’t able to make it to the final verse, crying her eyes out as she sets the papers down in front of his stone and once again finds herself dropping to the ground, her face covered in grass.

Suddenly she feels a hand on her back. She raises her head. “F-Finn?” There’s no way. It isn’t possible. But who could it be then?

“No, I’m afraid not.” It’s Brittany. Santana immediately turns toward her, eyebrows raised.

“How did you find me? Wha- what are you doing here?” Santana questions.

Brittany frowns at her. “I saw your reaction to the football game earlier today and I figured you’d be here.” Santana sighs. She hates how obvious she is sometimes. “What are you doing out here, sweetie? It’s so late and dark out here. You could get lost or get captured by bears or something.”

Santana wants to laugh, but instead that sentence is just enough for her to explode in tears all over again. She falls into Brittany’s arms, not wanting to let go. “I miss him, Brittany. I miss him.”

“I do too,” Brittany tells her.

The two of them stay out there a little bit longer, until Santana feels ready to go inside again. She leaves the papers with the song lyrics on them by his tombstone, and whenever she listens to that song now, she feels like he’s singing along with her, like he’s still alive inside her. And she is grateful to have him watching over her.


End file.
